


Rainbow

by EverythingisBlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Dorks, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Sappy Ending, Sloppy Makeouts, Teddy with kids aka my heart hurts, Teenage Drama, in which Victoire is smart and Teddy is worried, these kids and their magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:06:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingisBlue/pseuds/EverythingisBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victoire Weasley has always been a girl with stars in her eyes and sights set on feats of great intelligence. She wants to see the world, learn all there is to learn, to live free and honestly and brightly. When she comes up with her newest venture, however, Teddy, for the first time in his life, had panicked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainbow

Louis, despite his few years, had very nimble fingers, a wealth of patience, and a talent for braiding hair. He rested his bony knees on Teddy's shoulders as he braided his hair, made long and pastel pink for the boy, and threaded flowers through. Teddy did the same with Rose, who often complained about not having her mum's thick curls, weaving tiny wildflowers - although not as well as Louis could - into her long ginger hair, as she read.

All the while, Louis talked ceaselessly, and Dominique whined about it as she sketched away by the fireplace, and Lily Luna and Hugo ignored them all in favour of helping the adults in the kitchen.

"Teddy?" Rose asked, tapping her fingers against her book. Her head inched back slightly to face him. "Can I ask you something? About Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, of course."

"What house do you think I'll be in?"

"You're worried about that, already?"

"Yes!" she squeaked, "Dad says he'll disown me if I'm in Slytherin and he probably won't speak to me if I'm in anything other than Gryffindor."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I don't know for certain but I have an inkling he will and it's a really strong hunch as well so I'm practically certain that it'll happen and I'm very scared of it so..." Rose sighed, and her head fell into her book, "I... I can't be a Gryffindor if I'm scared all the time."

Teddy gently placed his hands on her shoulders, and said, "It's ok if you're scared. But your dad isn't going to be angry if you're not in Gryffindor. Trust me, he won’t. Your dad loves you too much. Whatever you choose will be fine.”

"Join Ravenclaw," Dominique interrupted, looking up from her sketchbook. "Then you'll have me."

Rose smiled a little.

“Besides,” she continued, “Slytherin versus Gryffindor was our parents’ fault, and their parents’ fault. You’re better not to have any part in their mess. Just choose what you want.”

“What she said,” Teddy added. “See Rosie, it’s all going to be fine.”

At that moment, Fleur walked into the room and put her face to the window, muttering grumpily under her breath. Then she turned to face Teddy and asked,

"Teddy, would you talk to 'er? I’ve been trying all day to get ‘er back inside but it’s not working. She likes you very much though, so she'll listen to you."

"Alright," he said, getting to his feet. As it shortened, his hair went to a mousy brown, the only colour he could muster as of late, and all the flowers fell onto his shoulders. Louis groaned, and Teddy scooped them up into his palms and handed them back, telling Louis, "I'm sure you'll do a better job than I could," as he nodded to Rose's lopsided braids. Louis's face lit up.

As he walked out of the back door, he heard Fleur quietly say, "Thank you. I don't know what's 'appened to 'er, but she's not 'erself."

Teddy knew. The problem was that Vic wanted to study after Hogwarts. Fair enough, it was what Hermione had campaigned for, for the Wizarding world and the muggle world to be closer, the opposite of what the Death Eaters had planned actually, and things hadn’t been better. But she wanted to go to France, and even had eyes on the Sorbonne.

And he'd freaked out. It wasn’t to say that she wasn’t capable of such things - he knew she was - but that was how she saw it, as him trying to hold her back. So, they’d had a bit of a fight and hadn't spoken in over a month. It was the longest they'd ever gone without talking to one another.

If only he could tell her the truth, that the idea of losing her for so long terrified him. It was Paris, France, for Merlin’s sake; the city was no doubt overflowing with suave, perfumed young men for whom trivial things like existing relationships and wizardry weren’t barriers in wooing beautiful girls like Vic. Young men who’d neglect to know that she spent forever in the shower, that a perfect day for her was hitting the waves, that her favourite colour was… Pink, perhaps? Green? For a moment he tried to think of what colour she wore the most, and panicked. He didn’t know. Maybe he was wrong, that he knew less than he’d considered. Like her favourite food - Oh, scratch that, it's chocolate frogs.

Perhaps he was overreacting. Maybe it was just panic at the thought of losing her, this irrational eventuality that seemed all too close.

He walked out until he came to a bag of her things, resting at the edge of a sand dune, and looked out to the sea. She was there and not too far out, sat on her board, waiting for the wave building up as it approached.

“Vic!” He called. Her head inched to face him ever so slightly, not even for ten seconds, but the loss of concentration was enough for her to go plummeting beneath the waves, the board flopping out of control. He sucked a breath through his teeth as she reemerged, swam over to her board and then trudged out of the water.

“Hey,” he said, with an awkward flick of his hand, barely a wave. She stormed past him and flung her board beside her things, then dug out a towel and threw it over her shoulders as she slumped down on the sand dune.

“So, um, how’s the surf?”

Vic rolled her eyes but didn’t look at him.

“Anyway, your mum wants to talk to you.”

She shrugged.

"Vic, talk to me."

She tied her hair up into a haphazard ponytail, eyes still on the horizon.

"Vic, you can't avoid this forever, we're going to have to talk some time. Please, talk to me."

She stayed silent, and Teddy felt like he’d burst, “Alright, I’ll speak, because I-I’ve actually got a lot to say. Look, I’m sorry I said the things I did, I-.... I panicked. I panicked because I felt like you’ll forget me. That’ll you find someone better, someone who knows what he’s talking about and can sort his head out, someone who doesn’t get as nervous as I do… someone who isn’t afraid of losing you.”

She didn’t speak at first, but brought the back of her hand up to wipe her eyes as she shook her head, then quietly muttered, “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Vic?”

"Stop calling me 'Vic'," she demanded. Glancing up at him, her brow raised for a moment, then she noted, "Your hair's different from the last time I saw you."

"And?"

"I don't like it."

"Well, then... what's your favourite colour?"

"Favourite colour?" She spluttered, "Really?"

"Isn't that what couples care about?"

Victoire buried her head in her hands, bent over her legs, and let out a hollow, cutting laugh. When she sat up and looked at him, eyes narrowed, she told him, "You know what? Guess."

"Ginger?" He asked, concentrating on a brand of red hair specifically Weasley. The colour spread through his hair and into each strand, accented like autumn leaves. In the sunlight gold shone among bronze.

"We're really doing this?"

"Humour me, this once."

Her nose crinkled, "It's pretty, but no."

"Green?"

At first, he chose grass green, the same shade as parks in summer and fresh vegetables, that reminded him of fresh air. However, when her eyes narrowed, the colour darkened to one of pine forests, evergreens, and Christmas trees, rich and proud - practically Slytherin. Still, she shook her head.

“Is it pink then?”

He thought of pink neon highlighters, then cherry blossoms, then bright fuchsia like his mother’s. In the photos, it was always that colour, and she was always smiling. The image of her was indelled in his mind.

But he couldn’t remember her completely, or his dad. As he went cold, his hair turned pitch black immediately. Vic squinted at him, brow furrowing, and her head tilted to one side.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s… nothing, I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

Her fingertips brushed his knuckles before drawing back, as if he’d given a static shock, as she resumed sulking.

"I'm not giving up," he told her, "I'm going to keep asking until I get it. So, blond?"

He considered her hair when he changed, remembering the swish of her ponytail as she walked through Hogwarts' corridors. He'd seen her hair in plaits, in buns, in half-assed messes on her (rare) off days, straight, curled, and once so long it reached the small of her back.

A strand of it smoothed past her freckled cheekbone, almost white like her mother's, and her eyes were even a similar dark blue. They focused on him, with all the power to pick him apart, but instead she read him gently, carefully.

"No," she mused, voice a soft whisper, "you look too much like a Malfoy."

He chuckled, relieved to hear something vaguely nice. When she smiled, her eyes shone.

“Blue?"

Among the blonde, tiny flashes of pale blue glinted, gradually turning into royal blue, a fake blue. It was a blue inspired by spills of food colouring, of bright pans, and toy cars.

"Lighter," she prompted, and he thought of the sky on a clear, sunny day. He thought of her eyes, of the veins in the small of her wrist. "No, a little more green-y."

Like peacock feathers, or bubblegum packets, or flashes of turquoise fabric. Her nail polish. The colour of his hair when they first kissed.

_Oh, Ted, you complete twat._

"Nailed it."

He opened his eyes to her, inches from his face, perched on her thigh with her hands on each knee. His laid beside her arms, itching to touch. She leant in first and their lips met in the middle, and he relaxed at her touch, curved against her body as she pressed into him.

For a moment, they gazed up at each other in silence. Then she glanced up and giggled.

"What?" He asked, brow furrowing.

"The tips of your hair are pink," she told him, as she took a tuft in hand and twirled it around her finger, studying it. In a hurry, she whispered, "I have an idea-"

And she kissed him again, with a force that took him by surprise, strong enough for him to fall flat on his back. The smell of the sea filled his nose but everything else was Vic, her hipbones slotted beside his, hands on his chest. His fingertips rested on her hip, savouring the feeling of warm skin beneath, as their lips skated over each other, him yielding to her, with no heed to breathing. In fact, the lack of air made him dizzy, made him aware of his pulse hammering in his ears and his blood racing through his veins.

She pulled back, leaving him with his chest heaving, kicked her leg over and straddled him, then laughed.

"It's totally pink, isn't it?"

She nodded, still laughing, "And your face matches!"

Ignoring the burning under his skin, he craned his torso up and wrapped his arms around her hips, then rolled onto his front with her laid back beneath him. All the while she laughed, the sound tolling in his ears like the ebb and flow of the tide.

"You're awful, Vic."

"Almost as bad as you."

Chuckling, he kissed her, over and over, as if it'd never be enough.

"Victoire! Teddy! Dinner's ready!"

Teddy rolled off her as Vic leapt to her feet and shouted, “Coming!”, then began to jog up the hill, and Teddy sped after her with her things in hand. His spare hand grasped hers.

“We’re going to be alright, aren’t we?” He asked, walking beside her.

“Of course. You worry too much.”

“I don’t worry too much, I just… I love you.”

Vic sighed, and looked him in the eye, “I love you too. And I’d be lying if I said that I’m not afraid of the future. In fact, there are so many things about it that cause me anxiety but I know that… I know that as long as I’ve got you, it’ll be alright.”

He chuckled, “That was amazingly sappy.”

“I’m almost as bad as you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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